Proximity
by tromana
Summary: Glinda, in the years after Elphaba's 'death'.


**Title: **Proximity  
**Author: **tromana  
**Rating: **T  
**Characters:** Glinda (possible Glinda/Elphaba, Glinda/Fiyero, Elphaba/Fiyero if you squint), Chistery, Boq, Doctor Dillamond.  
**Summary: **Glinda, in the years after Elphaba's 'death'.  
**Disclaimer: **Not mine  
**Notes: **First Wicked fic. Based predominantly on the musical verse. Beta'd by Miss Peg, thank you.

**Proximity**

She heard her voice in the dead of the night.

She always did; that was when Oz was at its most quiet, most peaceful. That was when thoughts had the time and privacy to invade Glinda's mind. When she had space to concentrate on the details between the lines. Ever since the Wizard had 'conveniently' left and Madame Morrible had been imprisoned, she had been rushed off her feet. However, that didn't stop Elphaba from being far from her mind. But during the day, when rushing from civic duty to supposedly vital, though often arduous, meetingsGlinda was so rushed off her feet that she didn't have time to focus on the tasks she wanted to.

The tasks she _needed _to.

Not that anyone else knew about them.

Like continuing Chistery and his clan's language lessons.

Learning the truth behind Boq's transformation.

Attempting to read the Grimmerie.

The spell book stared down at her, from the upper shelf on the bookcase opposite her bed. She had haphazardly left it resting there for a significant period of time, almost intimidated by the damn thing. It had been days, weeks even, since she had last allowed her fingers to run over the spine of the book. Every time she approached it, Glinda felt a sense of foreboding, a sense of wrongness. It was as if the book spewed evil from its every pore.

Did the Grimmerie corrupt Elphie?

Was she doomed from the start?

Or maybe that was just a case of an overactive imagination? She may not have been as adept at magic as she'd wished, but she did still know a thing or two about sorcery.

The book itself - nor the spells it contained - couldn't be truly considered evil, could they? Surely, it was all about application. In the right (green?) hands, they could have done so much good.

In the wrong, however? Well, just look at poor Boq, who was now condemned to a life as a tin man. Though he swore blind that Elphaba was responsible, Glinda hoped - knew - that he was refusing to tell her the full story. She would have continued trying to learn the bigger picture, but she simply didn't have the _time_. If she did, she would have pestered him until she knew everything that had happened to him. He, the student that she had known back in the day, would probably have been thrilled with her attention. But how much of the Munchkin she knew was left in that metal casing? Part of her never wanted to find out. The very idea just terrified her.

Then there were monkeys too. Their wings had caused them nothing but trouble. The few words she had managed to coax out of Chistery had only spoken of anguish.

She stood and let her fingers dance over the embossed cover. Should she open it? Now? It wasn't as if she was going to get any rest imminently. Glinda couldn't actually remember the last time she had enjoyed an undisturbed night's sleep. It was certainly before Fiyero left her for…

_No. _She wasn't going to think about that. That was a closed deal, she had accepted what happened and moved on. One of the many things she'd learned since her teenage years was that she couldn't have everything she wanted, regardless of how much she wanted it. Such a closed and conceited mind she had, back then. She put it down to the follies of youth, her spoiled upbringing. It was, after all, before she had had her eyes opened by a certain individual and some very specific events.

Besides, Fiyero had disappeared off the face of the planet. She hoped he was alive, that he was happy. Though, without Elphie…

Her gaze dropped back down to the Grimmerie. There was a time when she had been absolutely desperate to simply touch the thing, never mind attempt to read it. Now, she loathed the very idea.

But Elphie wanted her to learn. Had insisted, even. It was up to her. _For both of them._

Glinda allowed her fingers to slide between the front cover and the first page.

xxx

Her first attempt at a spell was a disaster.

She was lucky though. Unlike Nessarose and the especially unfortunate Boq, there were no unexpected victims. Glinda simply didn't get that far.

The language was so indecipherable that she couldn't even pronounce a couple of syllables, never mind the whole page.

In the end, she just gave up. She had more important things to do. Oz needed her, however much she simply wanted to turn her back on it at times.

xxx

"No, no Elphie, don't do it. We, I _need _you."

She woke up in a cold sweat, almost as if her body was determined to replicate the damp conditions in which Elphaba died. It was something that often happened, whenever she relived those specific memories. Being _melted_ by water seemed awfully painful, horrifying even.

But something still wasn't _quite_ right. Glinda knew that, deep down. She just hadn't really had time to focus on it. If anything, she'd actively avoided thinking about it too; death was never a pleasant subject. Even less so when it dealt with the tragic demise of one so young. Too soon, Elphie had been snatched away from her. Far too soon.

Not that the rest of Oz saw it that way. Indeed, even now, months and months after the event, people still celebrated. Whenever the Time Dragon clock struck the thirteenth hour, the time when that farm girl - Dora? Dorothea? No, Dorothy, had poured the bucket of water over Elphie, there seemed to be a mini celebration _still._

And each jubilant cheer was like a stab to Glinda's heart.

Elphie wasn't evil. Glinda still dearly wanted to clear her name, to make sure that history committed her to memory for the right reasons, not the ones that Morrible and the Wizard had chosen. As the brave, stubborn, petulant girl who only wanted to make good, despite her obvious differences.

She would have achieved more if it wasn't for that fateful bucket of water.

Water.

Pure water could melt her. That was what people had said. But Glinda knew it wasn't true. It was just arumour, mere speculation, like the ridiculous concept of her having a third eye or the ability to shed skin. She and Fiyero had been appalled once, at the fact that people believed such a ridiculous thing.

But maybe those beliefs had saved Elphie's life?

Maybe she was still alive, hidden in a corner of Oz that no one had dared look? Perhaps she'd travelled further still? Found somewhere safe, somewhere where she was lucky enough to get some respite from the snide remarks about her unfortunate skin affliction?

Glinda felt awfully guilty. It had taken her an embarrassingly long time to remember the differences between hearsay and fact. All this time, she had been rushing around, trying to be 'Glinda the Good', or rather, the Glinda that her fellow Ozians wanted her to be. She'd let Elphie down. Again.

But now she had finally made the connection, there was no need to continue living in the past. She had renewed vigour, more energy than she could remember having for such a long while.

Only problem was where to _start _with it all. Even if Elphie was alive, where could she start looking? Where would she get the answers she wanted, craved? And just because she probably survived the water incident unscathed, it didn't mean she couldn't have been killed since then.

Doctor Dillamond.

Maybe the Goat had some answers? It was clutching at straws, but it was worth a shot. Anything which could clarify the situation would be a good thing. And the good Doctor was one of the few educational professionals Glinda had any respect left for. The respect may have been hastily developed, long after his contract had ended at Shiz University. But still. It was there. And the Goat had been awfully fond of Elphie, too. There was no way he would turn away somebody looking to help his favourite student.

Finding him would be the first problem.

Getting him to speak again was another matter entirely.

xxx

"Boq!"

She hadn't expected to see him on her travels. The only reason she was in Munchkinland at all was to open the new school. Since Nessarose's demise, conditions had improved significantly but Glinda knew there was still a lot of work to be done. Especially for the Animals. They were still marginalized, shunned, discouraged from speaking out. It broke her heart; this was not what Elphie wanted. It wasn't what she herself wanted either.

There was no missing Boq though; his new form was rather distinctive. Briefly, Glinda wondered whether or not it caused him the same kind of strife that Elphie's skin caused her. She shook her head and smiled weakly. At least she had learned his name now. Though, of course, that was still slightly humiliating. But it didn't matter - she was going to take the opportunity by both hands.

Boq seemed surprised to see Glinda in the middle of the back of beyond and _still _dressed in finery. His neck creaked as he took her in. She hadn't changed much, he decided. She was a little more even tempered, less judgemental, but still the same girl from the Upper Uplands. He couldn't see just how much her eyes had been opened. By Elphaba, by the Animals. By the changes in her life since attempting to take the mantle of 'Glinda the Good'.

"Glinda. It's good to see you," he responded evenly.

Glinda flinched. The Boq she had known at school would have been thrilled not only with the fact she was giving him direct attention, but had actually managed to get his name right. It seemed like she wasn't the only one to calm down a little over time.

"I trust this isn't a social call?" he continued and Glinda nodded. No point in lying. The truth had already been bended beyond recognition; adding more smoke and mirrors would have just complicated matters.

"Something is confusifying me. So, I'm looking for information on Elphaba."

"Again? I've already told you all I know. Elph - _the Wicked Witch of the West _- is responsible for my… my condition. And I don't want you bringing it up again."

"Elphie wasn't…" Glinda started before pausing and pinching her nose. "Fine. What about Doctor Dillamond?"

"Doctor Dillamond, the Goat?" Boq responded, caught off guard by Glinda's questioning. "I haven't seen him. Not for years. Last I heard was he was in the Emerald City. You have more luck coming across him than I."

Glinda nodded.

"Thank you, Boq. I shan't bother you again."

Boq pleaded that she didn't cut him out of her life entirely. Just because they disagreed on Elphaba's status in Oz, it didn't mean he didn't _like _Glinda. For somebody without a heart, he was still awfully fond of her. At least now he could look at her without rose-coloured glasses. His transformation had freed him of the debilitating crush that had haunted his younger years.

However, she didn't even hear a word.

xxx

The progression of reinstating Animal rights was slow and laborious. Her colleagues simply did not understand why Glinda fought so voraciously for them. Oz was recovered, they said, there was no need to change the status quo.

The Animals knew their place and so did everybody else. It was a success all round for everyone.

But Oz _wasn't _recovered, Glinda could see that and she grew frustrated that her work was having little to no effect.

She could hardly blame them for being resistant to change. The idea of giving back Animals the rights that had been so mercilessly stripped of was terrifying. It could threaten to send them back to square one, back where they were before the Great Drought and the arrival of the Wizard.

But that wasn't the main problem. To do anything about the dire situation of the animals would mean admitting they were _wrong._

It didn't stop Glinda from trying though. She was meant to be continuing Elphaba's work and she was damn well going to give it her best shot. That thought was one of the few that kept her going, meant she still felt somewhat close to the green girl. But with the stubbornness of the other officials, their blindness to the strife their rulings were causing. Well, Glinda knew that she would be doing more good trying to get blood out of a stone.

Chistery hopped closer to her. Underneath his right arm was the Grimmerie.

He opened it in front of her, jabbing his stubby fingers at the open book. Glinda leaned forwards and dropped her eyes down to take in what he was indicating. She reached out and her fingers hovered over the page.

The words seemed somehow clearer. Like, because she desperately wanted to understand them, she could.

Was it right for her to attempt a spell in order to get what she _(and Elphie) _wanted?

xxx

Ousted from power and labelled a heretic. That was the result of her second disastrous attempt at a spell from the Grimmerie. Glinda didn't even need to tell people the truth about Elphaba for her to lose everything. She was quite capable of doing that all by herself. The reckless side of her wanted desperately to reveal all. It wasn't as if people could turn on her when they already had. But still, the situation would be salvageable. She could get back to where she once was.

She didn't mind, not really. It was a little degrading, being packed off back to the Uplands of Gillikin without a word, but Glinda knew she couldn't, shouldn't complain.

It was just, her popularity was the last thing she could lose. First, Fiyero, then Elphie, quickly followed by her self-belief and the ability to discern between right and wrong. Glinda felt as though she had nothing left.

No, that wasn't quite true. Her health. She still had that.

And now time too, in abundance.

xxx

A couple of years had been and gone and Glinda was still making little progress. The lack of political power was more of a hindrance than a help. However, at least she had the _time_ for it now. Chistery was more talkative, but the Monkey didn't know anything of use. Out of the goodness of his heart, he had scouted the Emerald City several times. It wasn't as if Glinda was allowed to head back there anymore, so she had little choice but to stay put. But still, it seemed that Dillamond was impossible to find.

And thus, Glinda felt further away from Elphaba than ever. Like any chance of reconciliation, any chance of actually seeing her again was becoming increasingly impossible.

She would even have been willing to throw caution into the fire and ask Madame Morrible for help. The ex-teacher, ex-press secretary had an uncanny way of knowing anything of interest in Oz. However, even if Glinda wanted to, she couldn't.

Morrible had died. Had starved herself to death in a last-ditch attempted to garner freedom.

Glinda wished she could feel sorry for this development, but she simply couldn't. The woman had been conniving, manipulative, almost _evil. _And though she dared not admit it, she had learned a lot from her. Not all of it good, either.

And that very fact chilled Glinda to the core.

Still, just because she learned from Morrible, it didn't mean she too was evil.

Did it?

Surely she had just made a couple of wrong decisions of late, right?

xxx

"You're on the right path, Glinda. You'll get there."

"But how, how will I know when I'm…. there?"

"You-"

She awoke. Just as she always did.

xxx

"Doctor Dillamond."

The Goat looked up at Glinda balefully. His milky-white eyes were clouded, his matted fur had thinned significantly, his clothing was frayed and unkempt. Time had not been kind to him. Her unnamed source had told her that he had never regained the power of speech. Gently, she knelt beside his deathbed and took one of his hooves into her hands, allowing her fingers to skitter lightly across the hard material.

"I'm sorry. I should never have-"

"He doesn't have long."

Glinda nodded. Somehow, she knew that without his wet-nurse having to tell her.

"Elphaba. You remember Elphaba? Do you know anything about her, anything? She can't be dead, it's just not possible. It's important, Doctor Dillamond, please…"

He took a deep, rasping breath, as if pulling together his strengths. Just one last effort. It was as if, despite having been hidden from the outside world for so long, he knew this was important. Knew that Glinda had become an advocate for Animal rights, as Elphaba had been before her.

"You will find your answers in the Grimmerie, Miss Glinda."

His eyes fluttered shut and slowly, but surely his breathing slowed to a standstill.

The Grimmerie. Why did it always have to come down to that awful, awful book?

xxx

Glinda picked up the book. It had gathered dust in recent years, but there was little she could do about that now.

What was different? What had changed since Dillamond had died? What made him think that she would be able to read it now, when she had failed to do so every single time before. When the little she had been able to comprehend had done more harm than good.

She closed her eyes.

A lot had happened since she had last seen Elphaba.

The deaths of Morrible and Dillamond.

Chistery proving that it was possible for an Animal to regain the power of speech.

Her losing all power and slowly beginning to gain some back because of Chistery's progress. While she would never be ruler of all of Oz again, at least people were beginning to stand up and listen. To realise that Animals had the rights to a decent standard of living; deserved the respect and dignity that other creatures with consciousness gained automatically.

But still. She herself knew that she had nothing. That she needed to do something more. That she had been failing Elphaba, failing herself.

And she hated being a failure, more than anything.

Glinda opened it up.

Nothing.

In a fit of frustration, she threw the Grimmerie away haphazardly. It struck the wall with a surprising amount of force and eventually slid to the ground, where it laid in a crumpled heap. Once upon a time, she would have been horrified that she could treat such an artefact with such contempt. Now, she was just annoyed. Even after all these years, the words were as obscure, as meaningless as ever.

Guiltily, Glinda shuffled over to the book. A few pages had come loose. She picked one up, placed it on her desk and straightened out the creases.

As if by magic, the words were clear.

Glinda smiled.

Some answers, at last.

end


End file.
